Flirting With Intent Read Free Page A

with a clear conscience.’
    ‘No, you’d still be stricken with guilt—that is, if you
do
guilt. My grandmother was not one to encourage idleness. The trust is set up so that for every dollar I earn it releases two. More if I throw in a good deed or two for charity, which, as luck would have it, I do.’
    ‘And what would your grandmother have thought of the car?’
    ‘She’d have
loved
the car,’ said Ruby, and swung out of the car park and into the Hong Kong traffic with a confidence born of insanity. ‘There’s a massage option built into the seat if you feel the need to relax,’ she murmured as she expertly cut her way across three lanes of traffic in order to take the next right.
    ‘I’m fine,’ he squeaked, but by the time they reached the shopping mall he had renewed his acquaintance with prayer and discovered that Ruby Maguire was either totally fearless, bent on annihilation by way of traffic incident or stark-raving mad.
    The shopping centre did nothing to soothe Damon’s already fragile peace of mind. ‘You know what you’re looking for, right?’ heasked a touch desperately as he glanced up at the waterfall of retail stores rimming the central atrium.
    ‘No,’ said Ruby cheerfully. ‘I have no idea. That’s why you’re here. You can start by telling me whether your sisters are girly girls when it comes to gifts or more practically inclined? Should I be thinking handbags for Poppy or season tickets to the Royal Ballet? She lives in London, right?’
    ‘Right. And definitely the tickets. Buying tickets online would mean we wouldn’t necessarily have to go into
any
of these shops. Problem solved.’
    ‘Or we could put the tickets
in
the handbag,’ murmured Ruby. ‘Or in the pocket of a black velvet evening coat. Do you have her measurements?’ Damon shook his head. Ruby sighed her impatience. ‘C’mon, Damon. Work with me here. Surely a rake of your stature can hazard a decent guess as to dress size? We’re not going to swing tailor-made at this time of year anyway. It’ll have to be ready-to-wear.’
    ‘In that case, Poppy’s five seven and too slender for her own good. Size ten, Australian.’
    ‘Thank you. I knew you could do it. What about Lena?’
    ‘Lena is a little taller and has spent six of the last eight months in a wheelchair. She’s even skinnier than Poppy these days. I hope it doesn’t last.’
    ‘So … dress size eight? Or ten?’
    ‘Yes,’ he said and earned himself an eye roll. ‘Ten would be better. Give her something to aspire to.’
    ‘And what size am I?’
    Nice of Ruby to give him permission to study her delectable form. ‘Arms above your head and turn around,’ he directed smoothly.
    ‘Funny man.’ Ruby’s honey-coloured eyes narrowed and her hands went to her hips. Damon’s gaze followed. Her waist was tiny but she did have hips. Not to mention a fine rear and full breasts. Her chestnut curls stayed clear of her face, courtesy of the ridiculous headband, and the black leather tote completed her general air of plenty.
    Plenty of curves, plenty of attitude and plenty of challenge to be going on with. Damon smiled his appreciation.
    ‘Somewhere between a size ten and a twelve, Ruby, though I’m guessing most ofyour clothes are custom fit. You’ve got that look. How am I doing so far?’
    ‘You’re a true expert on the female form. Lucky me. Now tell me what kind of clothes your sisters prefer to wear.’
    Damon looked warily upwards once again, towards the retail floors filled with shops. They seemed like very spacious shops. Probably not
that
many per floor. ‘Poppy likes layers. Lena hates dresses. Neither of them are into colour.’
    ‘That’s just sad,’ she murmured. ‘Do they like jewellery?’
    ‘They have jewellery.’
    ‘I’m working on the general assumption that they have everything,’ said Ruby dryly. ‘In here, Damon,’ she said, gesturing to the nearest shopfront. ‘No one does neutrals better than the